I 'censored' You
by Setus
Summary: The one thing never to do in Hueco Mundo, if you have Espadas who are bored to the core, and a set of surveillance cameras installed by the evil lords up above, that is to fall in love. GriXUl


Yoho! Evil Setus on the rampage! This is my first time writing BL, so please be nice to me! This fic is inspired by doujinshi, Puzzles, and Cher Zephyris's fic, also titled Puzzles. So here's my take! Enjoy!

Warning: OOCness for a few of the characters, no specific time frame, and yes, pardon me for my grasp of english...

Disclaimer: nope, none of the characters belong to me. so don't sue

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It all started with him asking Grimmjow if his arm was all right. Well, it is both surprising and unsurprising to hear that coming from him, because simply he was at loggerheads with Grimmjow, while he actually went to see if Yammy is doing well during one of his last surgeries. Not that it was his fault Grimmjow got his hand severed, since pretty much it was his pathetically short temper and insatiable appetite for battle that led to his temporal handicap, then again, he should have known. Perhaps that is the reason why 6 minus 4 is equals to 2. And despite him, indirectly, made it up to Grimmjow with the girl's time reversing powers, still, he ought to say something.

And at first Grimmjow was rather irritated by it, partially because of his melancholic tone, it is hard to decipher whether he meant well or was being sarcastic. Well, bottled-up anger is always a bad thing, especially if the capacity is as small as a medicine capsule. Grimmjow turned around to face the melancholic Espada and used his newly reformed arm to test its strength. He tried to, at least.

The thing about déjà vu is that it always happens when a similar incident recurs. He reached up and blocked Grimmjow's fist easily with his hand without the slightest flinch or twitch, and Grimmjow was hit by the miracles of a déjà vu. The last time their hands came into contact was when he tried to stop him from delivering a final blow. And surprisingly, at that situation with the battle heat still rising, Grimmjow felt this tingling sensation, something he couldn't explain, something out of the cold dark world he lived in. Something, warm...

Still maintaining the melancholic face, he looked straight into the 6th Espada's blue eyes. Once again, Grimmjow felt something different, as though those blank eyes were telling him something. The aggression on his face disappeared together with the tension of his arm, and slowly, his shoulders slumped as a genuine confusion clouded his eyes.

"Is your arm healed?"

…

"Eh?"

Grimmjow could only manage that, and creased his forehead further than usual.

"I asked if your arm is fully healed…"

This time, Grimmjow's left eye started twitching. Everyone, especially Grimmjow himself knows he couldn't care less for someone's welfare, other than if he is being 'commanded' to, so for this metaphorically large iceberg Espada to approach an erupting volcano, there must be something wrong, something very wrong. The usual Grimmjow would say "Humph, it is as if you would care if I lived or die." or "Did you have concussion or something?" But somehow he couldn't bring himself to say that, at least not when his fist is still in his hand…

"Uh… yeah…" Grimmjow mumbled, with surprisingly, a tinge of blush. An awkward silence ensued, and it took him five whole seconds to realize what position he was assuming and retracted his fist in a jerk.

The warmth he felt earlier lingered, despite the cold atmosphere Las Noches is always shrouded in. He glanced at his released fist and then to him. True enough, there was something in his eyes that seems to be out of place, something resembling a child who has just been reassured. Grimmjow is taller, and now that he took in a closer look with his bended stature, he does look like a child…

"Oh, well then…" And with that, he took his leave, leaving Grimmjow staring blankly at his back gradually being consumed by the darkness at the end of the corridor. He concluded to himself that there's something very wrong, firstly, to be asked about his temporal handicap, and no sarcastic and preachy comments made…

"Eh… I didn't know he had that side."

"Nnoitra…" Grimmjow could recognize that screeching mocking tone anywhere and gave a sneer with a sideways glance.

"Has the hard-boiled 'advisor' turned soft?" With the blown-up hood Nnoitra wears, Grimmjow could feel the cold air shuffling as the 5th Espada neared him. Wiping his blush off, he plastered his trademark frown on and turned to his second least favorite Espada.

"Ch! How would I know?" he barked at Nnoitra and stalked off without waiting for the other's reply. But as soon as Nnoitra is out of range, his face smoothed and stopped by a window. There was a crescent moon out there, shining amongst the dark and colorless desert.

Now that he thought of it, there was something in his voice that was definitely out of place… something is wrong with Ulquiorra… very wrong…

It is not surprising that Grimmjow, from that moment on, is growing rather concerned about the sudden change in attitude in Ulquiorra. Could it be that the usual cold Espada cares for him? Hueco Mundo, famous for the dominance of merciless hollows, obviously lacks the brighter side of emotions. So for Ulquiorra to display a tinge of care and concern, it is not hard for Grimmjow's mind to wander.

And it is now noticeable that not only there is a change in Ulquiorra's attitude, Grimmjow's behavior is also undergoing some alterations. The other Espadas, particularly Nnoitra, have noticed that the usual nonchalant Grimmjow would steal glances at Ulquiorra, or his mind would wander too far to even realize that Aizen was speaking directly to him, until he felt a suffocating Reiatsu before he tore his eyes away from the 4th Espada sitting across him.

"Grimmjow." The rich low voice penetrated his thoughts as he struggled to regain his breath. "Have you heard what your next mission is about?"

The confused Espada looked up at Aizen's never-changing face. Nope, he hasn't been listening of course.

"I said that you will go to the real world with Ulquiorra."

Grimmjow did not ask what the mission is about, for hearing the name "Ulquiorra" is enough to wake him. Opposite him, the 4th stood up and looked at Aizen.

"I will take my leave." Ulquiorra bowed and shot a glance at Grimmjow before turning around to leave the room. The 6th, despite utter confusion, was smart enough not to ask further questions and took his leave without another word.

"Hmm…. Not a bad combination." Nnoitra mused as he tucked his hands behind the oversized hood to cushion his head.

"What do you mean, Nnoitra?" it was Szayel who asked. Nnoitra's face fell and rolled his eyes at him.

"Keep an eye on them, and you'll know." Nnoitra's lips curved and stood up to leave. Szayel turned to the Shinigami sitting at the end of the table.

"I will ask you to do the same, Szayel." Aizen said with a sinister smile.

The route from Hueco Mundo to the real world is all too familiar to these two Espadas, but somehow, to both of them, it felt different now that they have each other for company.

"Oui, what is our mission?" Grimmjow broke the silence.

"We are just going to check if Soul Society has made any moves." Ulquiorra answered. Grimmjow was surprised to hear his voice back to normal, the usual mission-like, unwavering monotone, and for a moment, he thought he was wrong the whole time. Perhaps he mistook Ulquiorra's main motive for asking him about his hand… maybe he was thinking too much in the first place. But then again, him thinking too much, isn't that a sign already?

To Gimmjow, the mission was not much of a hassle, just a few interesting facts that they are preparing for the war, the weird sandal-and-hat man is buried somewhere opening up a passageway to Hueco Mundo, and the orange-hair freak is nowhere to be found.

All the time Ulquiorra made no attempt to strike any conversation, nor did he say anything regarding the information they found. The whole mission was in silence, where they concealed their Reiatsu to go through the mission with the least uproar possible. Alas, there was a slight commotion at Sandal-and-hat's place, where Grimmjow was once again tempted to kill off the guys who are posing threat to them. Once again, it was Ulquiorra who stopped him, opening up the Garganta and retreating.

Grimmjow was further infuriated by Ulquiorra at the end of the mission. His mind was already in a mess to begin with, and his remedy was again taken away.

"Why did you stop me from killing off those idiots back there?" he growled at Ulquiorra once they were in the long corridor after the main door of Las Noches. Half expecting him to say that it wasn't part of their mission, or something along those lines, Grimmjow slapped his forehead, in an attempt to not look into those emerald eyes and also to get rid of a probing headache.

"That was not part of our mission." Ulquiorra said simply and Grimmjow's anger meter rose. Yes, for the past days he has been imagining things. That must be it… "In addition…"

Huh? Grimmjow's eyes flew open at the last word. That feeling was back, the same feeling when Ulquiorra asked if his hand was all right.

"… your hand has just healed."

Something in Grimmjow's head exploded. He wasn't imagining things! He did care about his welfare!!!!

His heart raced as he studied him. Melancholic eyes, child-like face, smaller build… He looks… vulnerable… and… cute…

"What?" Ulquiorra asked as the other Espada was staring hard at him. Then with an impulse from don't know where…

Grimmjow shifted forward and pressed his lips against Ulquiorra's. Towering over him, Grimmjow took the chance to pin him to the wall while keeping his lips on his.

At first, Ulquiorra wanted to fight back, but there seemed to be a force keeping him from releasing a Cero. He felt something strange coming from Grimmjow… something sweet, a taste that he had never tried before…

Or maybe it's just that strawberry Urahara threw at him in surprise which he stupidly scoffed…

Despite so, there is a prominent presence of curiosity in Ulquiorra. Sure, he didn't exactly hate him, and yes, he was worried about his hand, and of course he would make it a point to help him if he can. Frankly, he was more worried for Grimmjow than Yammy… why?

To Grimmjow, his internals are almost screaming. Ever since the day he started to steal glances at the 4th, he felt something special towards him, something he couldn't quite explain, but resembling a desire to know more about him. There is a growing urge to protect him, despite Ulquiorra's higher position in the Espada ranks. Something about his built, his melancholic face, his vulnerability, his eyes…

A kiss, to the both of them is something new; something they know existed, but not the meaning and implication of, well, at least to Grimmjow. Ulquiorra? Definitely not… He may be well-versed in combat and strategy, but other than that, nope.

Grimmjow, as if on instinct, reached out to feel the other's cheek with his regenerated hand, and Ulquiorra's palm was pressed on the other's bare chest. It was Grimmjow who deepened the kiss, and Ulquiorra mimicked every little detail, for he wanted to know what it is, and what it meant, and why… It was the first time he felt completely lost, without the slightest idea of what is going on, let alone a strategy. But it felt strangely pleasant though, despite coming from the person who has him on his No.1 Hate list, comfortable and soothing, safe and secure…

"Hyahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!"

The eyes of the two Espadas flew open as a high-pitched shrieking laughter pierced their ears and echoed through the silent corridor, shaking every little spirit particle in the air, with the familiar rush of cold air caused by a familiar over-sized blown-up hood.

"I knew it! There was something going on between you two and I was absolutely right!" Grimmjow broke the contact by jerking away from Ulquiorra.

"Whahaha!!!!!! And what has happened to you? Quatro Espada-san?"

Grimmjow turned his attention away from the 'intruder' to Ulquiorra, only to find one word to describe him. Defeated. He knew he is never going to get out of this with any shred of dignity left, not with Ulquiorra, the stoic and most composed Arrancar in the history of Hougyoku, looking like this…

"And you, my friend, have real guts to hit on our Royal Grand Vizier." Nnoitra patted Gimmjow's shoulder. The 6th, taken aback by the contact of another hand, regained his composure and swatted the hand away.

"What do you want?" Grimmjow said through gritted teeth.

"Nothing. Just, _passing_ around." Nnoitra said, punctuating his words with sarcasm and innocence at the same time. "Was heading, _back,_ to the rooms when I, _thought,_ I heard some, _strange,_ sniping."

"Damn you." that was all Grimmjow could manage. Being caught red-handed was never the nicest thing to happen to him ever since the first day of residence in Las Noches.

"Hyahahaha!" the obnoxious Espada laughed revoltingly. "Oh, _this,_ is going to be, _fun_. Take care, Quatro Espada-san and Sexta-Espada-san! Hyahahahaha!"

With another wave of his blown-up spoon hood, Nnoitra swept the cold air of Las Noches and left, leaving Quatro, still in the against-the-wall jellyfish form, and Sexta, an about-to-erupt volcano.

Strangely, it was Ulquiorra who recovered first, and with one last look at Grimmjow, he sonido-ed away before the latter could do anything. The atmosphere returned to zero degrees the instant he zipped away. Las Noches is once again, filled with nothing but endless cold and sinister.

Grimmjow struck his fist against the white wall, leaving a small indent. Damn it. Sadly and discontented, he dragged his feet away towards his own room, not noticing a little surveillance camera-like device perched in the corner where the wall and ceiling meet, turning its lenses to follow his back. He never knew, that the next day, the small indent he made in the wall will be gone, replaced by his worst nightmare so far.

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So??? tell me how it is????? Reviews???? 


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